“Okay, I step forward into the municipal dump, keeping an eye out for the assassination contract,” said Arimo Warraven.

“Roll a d19 to see if you notice anything,” said the game master, Kotak Bravequest.

Arimo let his d19, hand-carved from dragonbone, fall to the table, where it rattled the miniatures and the piles of oily rags representing the dump. “2. Gods and their pasty asses!”

“You see nothing amiss,” said Kotak, grinning. “Sirne?”

Sirne Strikerider tapped his brow thoughtfully. “I throw a water balloon into the dump using my slingshot.”

“Okay, give me a d19 to see if you hit anything, and a d7 to see how much splash damage it does if it hits anything.”

“Is there anything to hit?” asked Sirne, his dove-white brows knitted in concern as he rolled. “17 and 1.”

“You’ll know soon enough.” Kotak leaned back in his chair, hand-hewn by his grandfather from the God-Tree of Elddir. “That’s a miss. Your water balloon doesn’t hit anything…but the splash alerts the garbage dragon that was hiding in the mound of refuse. It attacks with its sewer-gas breath! Roll to save against odor-based attacks.”

“Did you ever stop to think that, with all the garbage dragon and file cabinet kobald and gas station goblin attacks, the people in the Papers & Paychecks would never have survived long enough to get back to their apartments, much less create a civilization that’s hundreds of years ahead of our own?” said Arimo.

“It would probably be a lot like real life, with 90% of what they do being serf-work or studying for Scholam Magicum exams,” added Sirne.

“And that would be boring as hell, wouldn’t it?” Kotak replied. “Just for that, the sound of the dragon attracts two garbage Army Rangers from their patrol. Roll initiative.”

  • Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!